Pancake Eyes

“You have a client.”

“Yeah.  Several.”

“A cop.”


George offered her another drink.  She refused.  He indulged and smacked his lips.  Then he produced a tiny device.

“What's that?”

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)